Chapter 230: Claiming Air

The King stood silence, his thoughts unusually restless.

He had needed to find Aveline. He could only do so in Theron’s absence.

His son had done something utterly unnecessary.

For years, the Chancellor had been one of the most corrupt and manipulative men in the kingdom. The King had known it. He had also known about countless other crimes the man had committed behind closed doors. Yet he had never removed him.

A guilty man was easier to control than an innocent one.

Every hidden crime became another leash around the Chancellor’s neck. As long as the King held those secrets, the Chancellor remained useful.

All those years of careful control...

Ruined.

The moment Theron had casually mentioned finding "ledgers" in the abandoned warehouse, the Chancellor had immediately sought an audience with the King. Before the entire court, he admitted the warehouse belonged to him and produced documents proving every bale of cotton had supposedly been purchased legally and the required taxes duly paid.

The paperwork was forged.

The King knew it.

The Chancellor knew it.

Half the court likely knew it as well.

Yet no one challenged it.

That alone should have been Theron’s warning.

The King had even tried to signal him to let the matter rest.

But Theron refused.

He produced years of treasury records before the assembled court and methodically dismantled every one of the Chancellor’s claims. Import records did not match. Tax payments were missing. Warehouse declarations had never been filed. Piece by piece, he proved what everyone had long suspected—that the underground warehouse had been nothing more than a secret hoard hidden from the Crown.

The evidence was overwhelming.

With every eye in the court fixed upon him, the King had been left with no choice.

He stripped the Chancellor of his office.

It was justice.

It was also a political disaster.

Ingrid was furious. So were the Chancellor’s allies. Noble houses with fortunes built upon conveniently "unaccounted" businesses suddenly found themselves looking over their shoulders, wondering whether the Crown Prince intended to expose them next.

Worse still, Theron had openly accepted aid from the rebels, seized one of the realm’s largest private stockpiles, and was now distributing it freely among the people.

To the common folk, he looked like a hero.

To half the nobility, he looked like the beginning of a purge.

A king ruled the realm, but he did not rule alone. Armies marched because noble houses supplied them. Taxes flowed because merchants cooperated. Roads remained open because regional lords allowed them to.

Theron, driven by justice, had forgotten that power rested upon a balance far more fragile than a throne.

Now, nobles who had once distrusted one another were beginning to unite against a common threat.

The King could already see the storm gathering.

Fortunately, there was still one person who might be able to prevent it.

Aveline Willowgrave.

And, as fate would have it, he possessed the perfect reason to ask for her help.

Aveline stopped.

She did not possess a single ounce of respect for the man before her as a king. The little regard she had was only because he was Theron’s father, and even that had nearly vanished after learning he had tried to erase her memories.

Still...

She needed answers about Lydia.

She had a feeling the boys responsible were no ordinary students, and if anyone had the power to uncover them, it was the King.

So she listened.

A small smirk tugged at her lips.

"Just Kev," she greeted lightly. "What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve joined the cleaning squad."

For the first time, the King looked genuinely caught off guard.

He had expected anger, suspicion, perhaps even outright hostility. He had not expected her to continue using the ridiculous alias he had once given her, knowing full well she now knew exactly who he was.

"No," he answered after a moment. "I came to see you."

"Why?"

"There is something important we must discuss."

His gaze drifted across the corridor. Several students had already begun stealing curious glances toward them.

He lowered his voice.

"May we speak... somewhere private?"

"Private?"

Aveline repeated the word with a tired laugh.

She was exhausted. She had barely eaten all day. Every ounce of her strength had gone into staying beside Lydia’s bed, helping the physicians, and refusing to leave her friend alone.

She had no patience left for this man.

"I don’t trust you enough to be alone with you, Just Kev."

She gave him a casual wave.

"Come back after Theron returns. I’ll hear whatever you have to say then."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned to leave.

Or... She tried to.

Her foot refused to move.

She frowned and looked down.

Her shadow remained fixed to the ground, stretched unnaturally beneath her feet as though invisible chains held it in place.

A slow smile spread across her face.

The Vantaris family’s shadow-bending.

She almost was amused. Before she could decide how to respond, the King stepped in front of her.

"I have something I need you to do."

Aveline lifted her eyes to meet his.

Being restrained like this...It was insulting.

She reached for her own shadows, willing them to slip free. The hold weakened almost instantly.

Then, without warning, another force clamped down, far stronger than before. Her shadow froze again.

This time, she didn’t struggle.

Instead, she quietly observed. She couldn’t see them. The Shadow Veil concealed every one of them. But she could feel them.

One.

Three.

Five...

Far more.

Nearly twenty shadow-benders surrounded them in complete silence.

None possessed Kael’s overwhelming presence. If he had been among them, she would have sensed him immediately.

Beyond the hidden circle, she caught another current moving through the air.

Air-benders, waiting, watching and prepared to intervene the moment she resisted.

The King’s expression remained calm.

"I would rather not do this by force," he said quietly. "But if you refuse to listen... I cannot allow you to walk away."

She turned to the King, her sapphire eyes cold. "Is this how you ask someone for a favor?" she asked quietly. "By binding them against their will?"

The King’s jaw tightened, but he did not retreat. "I have something you want."

"Don’t want it."

Her answer came without hesitation.

She stopped struggling against the shadow restraints, not because she had surrendered, but because something inside her had begun to change.

Her friend lay battered and broken in the infirmary.She had barely left Lydia’s side long enough to fetch her something to eat for when she awoke.

And now...These people were standing in her way, stopping her.

The thought echoed through her mind.

Stop them. Just... Stop everything.

Around them, the air shifted.

The hidden air-benders moved in practiced unison, their sleeves flowing as currents gathered around them. Dust rose from the earth, spiraling upward until it enclosed the entire area beneath a swirling dome of sand and wind, hiding them from curious eyes beyond.

The shadow-benders tightened their hold.

She felt invisible blades hovering at her neck.

One wrong move... One careless twitch... And her head would tumble from her shoulders.

The King slowly raised a hand toward her forehead. Aveline’s heart lurched.

Was he going to erase her memories again?

She refused to wait and find out. Her eyes slowly closed. She drew in a long, slow breath. Longer than she had ever taken before.

The world became strangely quiet.

She no longer heard the wind. Nor the rustling dust. Nor the footsteps surrounding her.

She heard only breathing. Dozens of breaths.

Steady.

Measured.

Alive.

Something inside her reached toward them. Not toward the air itself... But toward the air already claimed.

The breath inside every living body.

Her brow furrowed. She had never attempted such a thing. She did not even know whether it was possible.

Yet the instinct felt... Natural, as though someone had once shown her, as though her body remembered what her mind had forgotten.

The shadow restraints dug deeper. Her anger only sharpened.

It did not make her reckless. It made her frighteningly calm.

Her fingers slowly rose, not against the shadows, not toward the wind, but toward the invisible threads she could suddenly feel stretching from every chest around her.

There.

She found them.

One... Then another... Then another... Like dozens of silken cords connecting every breath to the world itself.

Aveline exhaled.

Softly.

At the same moment, her fingers curled, as though closing around the strings of a marionette.

The effect was immediate.

The King’s eyes widened. His hand flew to his throat.

A strangled gasp escaped him.

Edric Vantaris stumbled to one knee, clutching his chest.

Around them, the hidden shadow-benders faltered one after another. Their grips weakened as panic spread through the formation.

Then the air-benders.

The swirling dome shuddered violently. The currents collapsed. Dust rained back onto the earth as each of them grabbed desperately at their throats, gasping for air that refused to come.

One by one...

They fell to their knees.

No wounds.

No blood.

Only terror.

Because for the first time in their lives...

Someone else held their next breath.

"You have no idea how easy it would be for me to make my Theron sit on the throne, Kevron," Aveline said, her eyes now dark as obsidian.

The King looked up at her... shuddering.